


Love Reborn

by Ethereal_Wishes



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Character Death, F/M, Rumbelle Secret Santa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-24
Updated: 2018-12-24
Packaged: 2019-09-26 00:56:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17131973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ethereal_Wishes/pseuds/Ethereal_Wishes
Summary: Rumplestiltskin was banished to his vault by a vengeful queen, but not before cursing every male child in her lineage to die.  He never thought he’d see the light of day again, until a beautiful maiden frees him - seeking his aid to spare her kingdom.  She agrees to go with him as his price.  He tried his best to evade her, but he couldn’t help but be drawn to her radiance.  They weren’t supposed to fall in love.  He’d tried his best to prevent it, but fate is a strong contender, and as the beast falls for the beauty, a curse hastily spoken from his past comes back with retribution.





	Love Reborn

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BerniceAmbler](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BerniceAmbler/gifts).



Love Reborn

A/AN: Berniceambler prompted edge, glimpses, wild inside, and reckoning. This prompt was certainly fun to play with. You'll find a bit of sorrow woven together with threads of joy in this tale. I hope you enjoy my take on this, it's truly turned into something, even I wasn't expecting.

500 Years Past

Black smoke billowed in the distance, concealing the angry crimson sky behind it. A kingdom burned to ash – a reckoning conceived by an ancient demon – hellbent on revenge. Rumpelstiltskin demanded vengeance for Queen Cora's betrayal. A deal had been struck between them many moons ago. The Queen would grant him her own virgin's blood in exchange for a way to usurp her brother from his throne. She had sworn to complete the ritual with him – so his son could be reborn. Rumpelstiltskin planned to use the blood in an ancient spell to resurrect his dead son. However, the Queen had gone back on her word, after being offered a marriage proposal she couldn't resist – an alliance which would make her more powerful than she already was. Queen Cora's list of excuses mattered little to the Dark One. No one went back on a deal with, Rumpelstiltskin, and lived to tell the tale.

"A curse on you and your lineage, Queen Cora! No male heir ever born in your royal bloodline, nor outside of it will never reach his first birthday! Your name will be extinguished just as your worthless estates are being licked up by the flames of my fury this very moment!" Rumpelstiltskin cursed, pointing a talon in the youthful queen's face.

"My lineage may die, Dark One, but so will you! Never will you see the light of day again!" Queen Cora retorted, throwing a handful of fairy dust in his eyes – eliciting a slew of curses from his lips. The Dark One found himself temporarily stunned by the attack, and it caused the nefarious queen to gain the upper hand as she commanded her court fairies to recite an ancient spell which would expel him to the Dark One's vault, forever. He was unable to retaliate, which meant he was damned to spend eternity there. No one would ever be foolish enough to release the most feared being in the realms from their prison. But he'd been wrong, for many years later, someone came calling for him – a princess fair, which considered him to be her people's only salvation.

Present Day

Belle – princess of Avonlea – thumbed through another tome in the royal library. The ogres were progressing upon her kingdom with each passing hour, and she was running out of time. She was on the precipice of losing everything, with her kingdom on the brink of war. She shut the dusty book, biting her lower lip in frustration. A dark epiphany crossed her mind: go consult the seer. Dark magic was taboo, but if she didn't do something, they would all perish. She hastily grabbed her cloak and rushed to the stables, readying her tan stallion for the risky, trek ahead. The seer dwelt deep within the wood. She was blind and fiery red locks protruded from her scalp, like venomous vipers. Sometimes she was hard to track down, but Belle knew exactly where to find her – like an internal instinct, she had a knack for tracking down those which wished to remain hidden. She prepared a small satchel of food for the seer, an offering for her guidance. The delicate, yet fierce, princess, rode off into the night.

As, Belle, had suspected, the seer was settled by the black pond. The young woman was the same age as herself, sentenced to live in isolation – the result of her oracle gift. Most who had the sight were drowned long before they could walk or talk, but Ezra was an exception. She'd been the child of one of her mother's ladies. The kindhearted, Queen Colette, had mercifully allowed her to raise the child in secret. Ezra's mother was soon discovered and sent into exile, along with her daughter – spared from death only because of her mother's station and powerful influence. They'd sought refuge in the woods and lived there ever since. Belle wouldn't exactly label them as companions, but Ezra had helped her evade a few scrapes – thanks to her sight gift. No one knew of her involvement with Ezra. If her parents or the royal council ever found out, she'd have her title stripped away from her. She would never reign as queen, but if she didn't intervene, there would be no one left to sit on the throne.

Belle dismounted her horse, tying him to a nearby tree – quiescently approaching the pond. A gentle breeze tousled Ezra's locks, as Belle stood at a distance. "It's been awhile, Lady Belle," Ezra remarked in her scratchy, unsettling voice.

Belle gulped back the anxious knot forming in her throat. "Ezra, I came here to consult your wisdom. My kingdom is on the brink of war with the ogres, and I know Avonlea won't be able to withstand the attacks. I've pored over every spell book in my library, but my search has been futile. Please, tell me how I can stop the ogres."

Ezra craned her neck, meeting Belle's gaze with whitewashed pupils. "The answer you seek is one which will cost you everything. You must unlock the Dark One's vault. Rumpelstiltskin is what he was once called, and he's the only one powerful enough to stop the ogres, but I heavily caution you princess, once the vault is unsealed, he will demand a price," the seer warned, causing Belle to violently shudder at the revelation she'd been granted.

"Pray tell me, Seer, how can this vault be opened?" Belle stammered.

"You are the key, Lady Belle. Three drops of your blood on the seal will release Rumpelstiltskin from his hibernation. But be ye warned, once he's been freed, there's no telling what destruction he'll conjure up," she responded, her voice growing hoarse. Belle thrust a skin of water into her hand, accompanied by the satchel of food rations.

"And where do I find this vault?" Belle inquired, hoping the seer had enough energy to dispel the rest of her premonition.

Ezra pointed a long, bony finger between two gnarled trees. "Seven miles, straight forward," she rasped, ravenously biting into her meal.

"Thank you, Ezra," Belle bowed humbly, hurriedly untying her horse – proceeding onward. Guilt coiled around her gut as recounted how much pain she'd possibly subjected Ezra to. The sight gift came with a price, and each time an oracle utilized their abilities, they grew more unstable. Most were drowned as babies to mercifully protect them from succumbing to the madness later on. Ezra had never denied Belle the use of her gift the handful of times she'd consulted her. Today, she swore it would be the last, for she knew once the vault was opened, her fate would be sealed.

The Vault

Belle haphazardly navigated through the deadened woods. Phillipe – her loyal stallion – had abandoned her two miles back. Perhaps he was sensitive to the bone chilling presence of evil which infiltrated the air. The closer she got to the vault, it became eerily quiet. No wildlife desired to habitate such a damnable place.

Belle was aware the moment she reached the tomb. Thorns covered the vault – a warning to travelers not to disturb the rest of the creature which laid beneath it. Blood ran cold in her veins, but she wasn't deterred. Though she knew not the price, she was willing to sacrifice her soul to keep her people safe. Belle brandished a sword from her hilt, and began hacking away at the thorns. She hadn't managed to complete her task unscathed; cuts branded her arms and legs, leaving her riding clothes ripped in various places. She winced, making a thin incision in her hand with her blade. Blood dripped onto the ancient vault, feeding the enchanted mechanism within it. She stammered back as the vault burst open, satisfied with her blood offering. Suddenly, an entity, with a putrid black substance dripping from its pores, emerged from the vault.

The black ooze eventually vanished, revealing a demon with gold-grayish skin. The creature blinked its amber orbs, staring down at its talons, as if it were in disbelief – wondering if he was merely dreaming again or actually awake.

The urge to scream overcame, Belle, but she couldn't seem to find her voice – too stunned by the scene unfolding before her. The demon transfixed its gaze on her, finally realizing who'd roused him from his slumber. It bared its ruined teeth at her, causing, Belle, to scramble to her feet.

"Rumpelstiltskin, I have released you from your prison because you're the only one powerful enough to help me. I'm told your aid requires a hefty price, and I'm willing to pay it if you'll spare my kingdom from the ogres! I'll do whatever you ask!" She exclaimed brazenly.

Rumpelstiltskin drank in the woman before him; he sensed a regal air about her. She was no ordinary human. "Very well, dearie, I'm elated to know you realize my magic comes with a price, unlike certain imbeciles I've dealt with in the past," he giggled impishly, his voice slightly rusty from its years of disuse. He observed her body shiver from the queer sound though her gaze never faltered. She was terrified of him, and he usually thrived on the fear he elicited from others, but not today. No, he wasn't in the mood to play games. He longed to get back to the confines his castle and assess the probable damage of his estate. He would simply do what she asked.

"Would you like to hear my price?" he asked, tapping his chin contemplatively.

"Yes, just get on with it, please," she pleaded, fruitlessly attempting to conceal the tremor in her voice.

Rumpelstiltskin usually knew immediately what he desired from another desperate soul, but he'd been imprisoned far too long to mull over the details. His mind drifted back to his estate. Undoubtedly it would be terribly dusty from its disuse. "My price is you, you'll come with me and become the caretaker of my rather large estate. It's going to be rather filthy, considering I've been imprisoned for nearly half a millennium."

Belle's pupils blew wide. This demon desired her to become his maid!? The deal surely entailed more than her polishing his silver and dusting his castle. Despite her reservations, she wouldn't refuse him. The livelihood of her people was a stake, and this monster was their only salvation. She squared her shoulders back, looking him straight in the eye.

"My friends and family, they will be safe?" she questioned.

"Yes, you have my word. The ogres will never step foot in your kingdom again if you agree to my terms," he vowed, bowing nobly.

"Fine, I'll go with you, forever," she managed to say.

Rumpelstiltskin giggled impishly, rubbing his hands together in satisfaction. "The deal has been struck! Oh, and congrats on your little war!" He grinned manically, grabbing her hand and whisking them away in a haze of crimson smoke.

The Dark Castle

Belle found life at the Dark Castle to be mundane. Rumpelstiltskin was secretive and eluded her most of the time. He wasn't willing to make conversation and spent the majority of his time locked away in his chambers, doing gods' knows what. The only time she ever saw him was when she delivered his afternoon tea and even then, he wasn't always around when she brought the tea cart to the dining hall. She often left it prepared as he preferred it, leaving long before he ever made his presence known. She'd simply collect the empty cup the following morning before beginning her daily chores. She often worked daylight until dusk because her laundry list of tasks never ceased.

Rumpelstiltskin had graciously allowed her one day off through the week; she usually spent it devouring the books in his enormous library. He'd never forbade her access of it, so she made it her haven, often choosing its quarters to indulge in on her breaks. She was allowed to explore any room of the castle. The only places off limits were the west wing and his chambers. Despite her curious nature, she was never brave enough to ask why.

Belle lit a candle, placing it on her windowsill each month on the anniversary of her arrival. It was a reminder and a comfort of what she'd left behind in Avonlea. She wasn't sure if she'd ever stop lighting them because she secretly missed home. However, home had often been a cruel place. Women weren't allowed to have a voice, and she'd have been denied a rich education if it hadn't been for her mother. Mother – the one person she missed the most. She assumed they'd already held a funeral for her, though no body was likely to be found. Rumpelstiltskin had never dispelled nor hinted if her family knew of her whereabouts. Despite her premature fears of him being a cruel taskmaster, he'd only ever been distant. Sometimes, during the night, she would hear a loud crash or a series of things breaking, but she stayed in the solace of her chamber during these times. Never would she venture into the wrath of the beast.

As the months bled into years, an unsatisfiable hunger for companionship overwhelmed her. Books had been her constant companions since the time of her arrival but their welcoming thrall wasn't enough to sate her anymore. Though she'd often shared a disinterest of the nobles in her former kingdom, she'd always desired marriage. It merely had to be with the right person – someone which stimulated her mind and made her body soar with pleasure at new heights.

Belle surmised if she was destined to spend eternity in this musty castle as its caretaker, she might as well strive to know everything she could about its other occupant. She decided to start out small, delivering Rumpelstiltskin's tea to him on the cart one afternoon. She was relieved to find he was actually present when she arrived. Their meetings had been brief and rare at most in last few years she'd spent in the castle, but she was determined to change that.

"Just leave it as you usually do, go on and read a book," he remarked gruffly, evading her company as usual.

Belle cleared her throat, forcing herself to remain in place instead of retreating as she usually would have. "I thought, perhaps we could take our tea together this afternoon," she suggested, preparing another cup for herself.

Rumpelstiltskin furrowed his brow in displeasure. "You're meant to be the help, I have nothing further to say to you, nor do I desire your conversation," he brushed her off callously.

Belle felt as if she'd been proverbially punched in the gut from his frigid response. "Very well then, here's your tea, Master!" Belle scoffed, slamming his cup down with a heavy thud, sloshing hot tea all over the table. He gasped, leveling her with his intimidating gaze, but she wasn't afraid of him. She was infuriated, as she turned on her heel, stomping away. She closed her ears to the slew of angry threats he hurled at her, making her way back to her chambers – latching the door. She knew the lock wouldn't bar him from gaining entrance if he truly desired to barge in, but he hadn't come. In fact, she saw nary a trace of him the remainder of the week or the next.

It wasn't until she'd lit her next anniversary candle that she heard the heavy trudging down the halls. She assumed it was Rumpelstiltskin, until the intruder wrenched open her door. It was a man, with greasy, dirty brown locks, which wreaked of too much ale. He grinned lewdly at her.

"Well, well, what do we have here? I had no idea the monster kept himself a whore. I suppose he won't mind sharing," he remarked, cornering her. Belle gazed around fretfully for an object to strike him with. She wasn't fast enough because in a few fleeting seconds, he had her pressed against the stone wall. Belle struggled against her captor, the overwhelming feeling to retch overshadowing her as he pressed his lips against hers. The kiss was forced, and she wondered how he'd managed to get past Rumpelstiltskin's magical wards guarding the castle. There must have been a breach in the wall. He forced his tongue into her mouth, causing her to choke in disgust. He pulled away, smirking wickedly.

"What? You don't like my kisses?" he chuckled humorlessly, pinning her against the wall as she struggled to escape.

"You must realize I don't take being told "no" very well. Keith of Nottingham always gets what he wants, and your Dark One isn't around to protect you it seems. This place was so easy to infiltrate. Hell, I just came for the gold, but it appears I'm going to get a little something extra instead," he remarked confidently, snaking his hand up her shift.

Suddenly his advances stopped, and she gasped when she heard his neck crack – lolling to the side. He slumped against her – dead. Belle's screams of terror filled the halls as her attacker fell lifelessly at her feet. In the doorway, two glowing amber orbs greeted her – ire burning within their depths. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she shook violently, sobbing.

Rumpelstiltskin padded over to her, crouching down beside her. "Did he-"

He'd halted, unable to finish his statement. "No," she muttered, continuing to sob. She'd expected him to leave her in her state of disarray, but instead, he'd wrapped a blanket around her shoulders – made of the most downy fabric she'd ever felt. The weight of it was like a comforting embrace, which rocked her to sleep.

When she'd awoken the next morning – bleary eyed, securely cocooned within the warmth of the cover, she found she was no longer in her chambers. As she gazed around, she noted the golden drapes which concealed the windows. The bed she was settled in was covered in a crimson duvet, which smelled of sandalwood and rich spices. In the center of the room there was a spinning wheel – a pile of golden straw blanketing the floor around it. Belle's heart beat tumultuously in her chest once she realized she was in Rumpelstiltskin's chambers. How could this be, she wondered. He'd warned her to stay clear of his personal space, yet he'd voluntarily invited her into his room. The events of the following night assaulted her memory, immobilizing her with fear.

The Conversation

"Belle?" She heard someone call her name, shattering the spell the attack held over her. She blinked hazily, noting Rumpelstiltskin had materialized out of nowhere.

"Master, I'm sorry, I'll be returning to my duties now. I should probably go and fix your tea," she stumbled over her words, freezing in place when he seized her by the wrist.

He quickly released her wrist, after realizing he was still clutching it. "No, I'm sorry. I'm sorry I wasn't there to protect you, and I'm sorry for how unfairly I've treated you. Yes, our agreement was you would come with me and become the caretaker of my estate. I've evaded your advances these last few years because I'm a monster. You're much safer if you stay clear of me. I owe you more than I can ever say for freeing me from that horrendous vault. You've served me well, but I'm relinquishing you of our deal. You're free to leave, and I'll provide you with enough coin to start a new life of your own," he expressed with melancholy eyes.

Belle was stunned by his declaration. He wanted her to leave!? The emotions permeating his features told her otherwise. "But this place would be filthy without me," she protested.

"Such a queer girl you are, I'm willing to release you from our deal, yet you insist on staying. Let me remind you, dearie, the Dark One has and never will offer you this chance again." He waggled his finger in her face non-threateningly.

Belle smiled prettily, lighting up the entire room – sending his heart fluttering madly within his chest. "Thank you for saving me, Rumpelstiltskin," she replied, patting his hand gently.

A rare, genuine smile spread across the imp's face. "The bastard managed to break through my wards with fairy dust. I don't know what he planned on stealing. He wouldn't have gotten away with it, before I had the chance to skin him alive."

Belle cleared her throat uncouthly. "He mentioned something about gold."

"Well, he'll never have a chance to spend any of it," he scoffed.

"It seems like you have quite a bit of it, do you hoard it all away or something?" Belle probed, allowing the blanket to fall around her shoulders, revealing her thin shift. Rumpelstiltskin averted his gaze, attempting to keep his eyes from wandering to her tantalizing bosom. How had she lived in the castle all these years and he'd failed to notice how beautiful she was? It had been centuries since he'd been involved with a mortal. Belle was by far the most alluring specimen he'd ever witnessed – angelic in all her glory, therefore he knew he must steer clear of her advances. He would surely taint her with his darkness if he dared to get too close.

"I believe that's none of your business," he remarked, schooling his features. "It's time for me to return to work. Go read a book or whatever it is you like to do."

Belle nodded, crestfallen. She'd caught him in a moment of vulnerability. She thought she was tearing down his walls, but he'd managed to resurrect them before she ever had a chance to break through. Wordlessly she trudged back to her chambers, preparing herself a hot bath to wash away the lingering stench of Keith Nottingham.

The Catalyst

For an entire week they didn't speak, but Belle couldn't help but fantasize about the way he'd gazed upon her in his bedchamber – as if he wished to devour her. Blazing heat burned in her core at the thought of his elegant, spinner's fingers sliding over the contours of her body. She had yet to experience the touch of another, but she was more than aware of what coupling entailed. Many suitors had gazed at her the way he had, yet it hadn't held the same affect over her. The first time she'd seen him, she'd been terrified of his appearance, but now she was intrigued. His skin was such a peculiar, yet favorable hue. Longing to touch him and truly feel the texture of it made her unravel from within. So, she began to plot – plan a way to get closer to him.

One night it stormed, stormed so violently, thunder rattled the glass in the windows. On that night, Belle found it impossible to sleep as she tossed and turned in her bed. Finally, she ripped back the covers – deciding to make tea to help calm her nerves. She made her way to the kitchens, discovering the hearth was roaring when she arrived. Surprisingly, Rumpelstiltskin was seated in his favorite red leather armchair. He gazed at the dancing flames – his mind lost in a faraway place.

Blood froze in her veins as she admired how outwardly beautiful he was, illuminated by the firelight. She sauntered forward, sliding into the roomy chair. He seemed unfazed by her presence until she daringly twirled one of his wiry ringlets around her index finger. He seized her hand, gripping it firmly – coiled tightly as a spring as he met her gaze.

"What are you doing up? Come to taunt the beast? Do you realize how dangerous that is?" He forewarned, but Belle sensed no danger in his voice – only pent up desire he'd been holding back.

Belle licked her lips. "I freed the most dastardly being in the realms from his vault. There isn't much I'm afraid of, especially not you, Rumpelstiltskin."

His breath hitched in his throat as she moved onto his lap, straddling him. His leather trousers felt cumbersomely tight as she drew closer to his lips, her breath ghosting against them. His hands gripped her hips firmly in place as her lips crashed into his. His body erupted in a barrage of emotions as she experimentally explored his mouth. His fingers danced over her delicate backside as she kissed him without reserve. He fought back the urge to selfishly indulge in his carnal pleasures, by making her his.

Belle pulled away, her eyes wild with desire. "Please, take me to bed." Her declaration made what little resolve he had left begin to crumble. He felt weak in the knees as the mortal part of himself suddenly desired to indulge in its old, familiar carnal pleasures of once being a man. He'd nearly thought the former shell of who he used to be long dead and buried. A bewitching siren, like the woman in front of him was hard to deny. He closed his eyes, forcing himself to regain control. He couldn't allow their momentum to increase, or he'd surely tip over the edge. He knew once he had a taste of her, there would be no coming back.

Rumpelstiltskin shook his head. "No, you're obviously still in a state of dreaming, believing I'm some handsome beau from your old life. If you'd taken your freedom when I'd granted it, there's a chance he might have still been waiting around for you."

Belle frowned. "Stop acting like you didn't feel anything. The problem is, you don't think I can really love you," she confronted him.

Rumpelstiltskin's heart slammed into his ribcage to what she was inferring. "No, no one has ever loved me but one person," he retorted, his mind conjuring up distant memories of the past. Daily, he lived in a sea of them, attempting to grasp hold of each one before they all slipped away forever.

Belle's countenance fell when she noticed the distant look in his eyes – one she'd grown accustomed to. He seemed to get them often, especially when he didn't believe she was paying any attention. "Who were they?"

The query had passed through her lips without a second thought, but the pain which flashed behind his ocher depths made her stomach coil with regret for prying. "A son, long dead and lost to me," he revealed without hesitation.

"I'm sorry," she mumbled apologetically, rising from his lap. His grip on her hips tightened, securing her in place, making it apparent he didn't wish for her to leave.

"Yes, it happened on a night quite like this one – sent off to fight in a war our country would never win. Our losses were stacked against us, and my son's was only added to the pile. I was born a lame cripple, so I was never drafted to fight, but he was – healthy as a horse. I'd have gladly traded places with him if I could have. After his death, I swore I'd find a way to bring him back. So, in my search to do so, I found a way to become immortal and powerful. I traded my soul away to an ancient evil known as the, Dark One. I became its host, hoping it would offer me a solution to resurrect him. When I finally found one, I was thwarted in my attempts – sealed away in that damned vault to rot. My plans never came to fruition, and I haven't succeeded since my release," he dispelled, causing her heart to contort with pain from his shared heartbreak.

"I didn't think magic could bring back the dead," she countered.

"It can't, but there's a cycle of rebirth. My son could be reborn during this time, but it's a strenuous process. It requires a spell, with rare ingredients. I must bottle true love's kiss from a fair maiden and her true love, then I must add royal virgin's blood to the mix, and find a willing host to carry my seed," he mumbled. "I'd nearly procured the virgin's blood before my imprisonment."

"And what of the others?" Belle queried, shocked by his revelation.

He shook his head. "My path in acquiring those ingredients was, and still is, unclear."

"But what if the path is right before you, at this very moment?" she imparted.

Rumpelstiltskin gazed deeply into her azure irises, losing himself within their bottomless depths. "What are you saying, Belle?" he inquired, but he knew exactly what she meant, he just didn't want to acknowledge it.

"I've never laid with a man, and I was meant to be the crowned princess of Avonlea. There's your first ingredient – royal virgin's blood. If you take my virtue, you'll be able to collect it yourself," she replied. His gut churned with bile, for she was willing to give herself freely to him. A princess fair – offering herself as a sacrificial lamb to the beast.

"You shouldn't want that, Belle. I couldn't, I -"

She placed an elegant finger to his lips, silencing him. "It's my fate, and I'll decide what's right for me."

"The process could take awhile, I'm not even sure if the spell will work," he remarked doubtfully.

"We won't know if we don't try," she replied, intertwining their fingers.

"I'll need to make the proper arrangements, it may take a few days. There's a ritual involved, which requires the mincing of our blood. The process will go much smoother since you're offering your own blood and body as a host to incubate my son's spirit. It will be like a normal pregnancy, except my son will get a chance to relive the life he lost," he explained, squeezing her hand gently.

Belle was about to inquire more about the mechanisms of the spell, but the query died on her tongue as Rumpelstiltskin insisted she go back to her chambers. A sudden wave of drowsiness had overcome her the moment he'd suggested it, lulling her into a state of dreaming, as he set off to work.

The Completion

Rumpelstiltskin gazed at the vial of glowing, ethereal purple liquid – true love's kiss, all bottled up. The night after, Belle, had propositioned him, it was as if everything fell into place. He'd managed to bottle the true love of a couple from a close kingdom – Prince David and Snow White. They'd called upon him to help banish a band of nasty trolls which had infiltrated the surrounding villages. He'd happily obliged when he sensed their strong connection – true love at its finest. Few called on him for deals anymore, except for the ones he made his presence known to. Their desperation would permeate the atmosphere, like thick rain clouds, and the Dark One was able to sense it – even from miles away.

Belle was awaiting him in his chambers, ready to complete the ritual. He'd paid the local parishioner well to wed them before they participated in this dark deed. He may have been a monster, but he intended to do things properly. If, Belle, was to bear his son and any children which may come after, she would become his wife. He didn't intend for her to be his brood mare, but she had insisted that she loved him – desired to live the long flow of time with him. Love was such a foreign concept to him, and the Dark One wasn't too keen on having it parade about his life. However, the mortal part of himself desired an intimate connection, one which would help restore the goodness within him. When his son was reborn, he intended to be a good father, and having Belle around would allow him to relearn what it meant to be human again.

Rumpelstiltskin was thrilled to see his wife spread out like an extravagant feast before him. Despite the intention of this night, he took his time pleasuring her, and savoring the connection they were building. The true love potion was poured around their marriage bed before the consummation began, and as his seed minced with her blood, he recited the spell, burying himself deep within her core until she cried out his name in pure ecstasy.

It wasn't long before, Belle, began to develop morning sickness – the first signs of new life growing inside of her. It was relentless, and she stayed curled up in bed on most days. He became the king of back, foot, and shoulder rubs. Pampering her became his sole purpose because she was carrying a delicate treasure inside of her. But she was becoming a treasure to him also, and he was slowly beginning to fall for her. She was so easy to love, and it frightened him at times of how accepting she was of him. As the months ticked by, her belly began to swell like a ripened melon.

The day she went into labor, it was storming relentlessly – just like the night she'd willingly offered herself to him – became part of the spell. The pain was unbearable. Rumpelstiltskin wiped sweat from her brow. She took in heavy, laden breaths. She'd been in labor for the past several hours. The village midwife stood between her parted legs, ready to receive the babe she would soon deliver. The old woman had been frightened out of her mind when the Dark One had showed up at her doorstep in the middle of the night – demanding she return to his castle and aid in the delivery of their child.

"I'm so tired, Rumple," she mumbled to her husband. The Dark One stood by her side, holding her hand tightly for moral support, though inside he was a nervous wreck.

"It'll all be over soon, sweetheart," he crooned, patting her arm consolingly.

"Alright, Milady, I can see the head! I just need for you to push for me one more time!" The midwife instructed. Belle felt like she couldn't take another breath, overwhelmed by exhaustion, but she had to do this for him. She'd made him a promise. She pushed with all her might, focusing solely on his child until she heard the newborn's cries.

"It's a boy!" the midwife announced exuberantly, picking up the squalling babe and swaddling him in a wool blanket – the exact one he'd spun for his son the first time. She handed the tiny fussing infant to its mother, who couldn't focus on anything but her pain moments ago. Yet, when she saw her bundle of joy, all of her misery faded. She was overcome with emotion when he opened his brilliant sable eyes.

Tears washed unbidden over her ashen cheeks as pride swelled within her heart."You're so beautiful," she gushed to the tiny infant, who affectionately grabbed her finger with his wee hand, his cries temporarily ceasing.

"You did it, my love," Rumpelstiltskin beamed proudly, admiring his wife and newborn son. He swiped damp locks of hair from her eyes, kissing her brow affectionately.

She nodded amicably. "What shall we call him?" she inquired, glancing up at her husband. He'd kept the name of his first son a secret, and she yearned to hear it.

"His name shall be Baelfire," he replied, taking the squalling infant from her arms and cutting the cord.

Tears dimmed her eyes as she glanced up at him amorously. He bent down to place a clumsy kiss on her lips. "Such a strong name," she added.

"Indeed is is." He beamed, full of fatherly affection for their new addition.

"Our family is now complete," Belle mumbled drowsily, closing her eyes as she drifted off.

"I believe your mother is exhausted. You should sleep as well," he told the babe as he settled down in the rocking chair by the roaring hearth, humming an old lullaby from years long past – one he was certain he'd never have the chance to sing again. The child closed his eyes as Rumpelstiltskin lulled him to sleep with his soothing brogue. He glanced at his snoozing wife. He owed her everything, and though Rumpelstiltskin wished to sigh in relief for the miraculous workings of the spell, he'd forgotten of a curse which had passed through his lips long ago – a curse which had tainted Belle's royal bloodline.

The Curse

Baelfire started out as a normal, healthy child. He even resembled Rumpelstiltskin's former son from long ago. He was always happy and smiling and his parents doted over him constantly. When he reached nine months, his health began to rapidly decline. He was sickly and cried constantly from the pain. No matter what remedy or special concoction his father offered him, it proved to be of no effect. Rumpelstiltskin was stunned by this conundrum. He sensed his sanity swiftly slipping away as he fought to keep his son alive.

When, Belle, wasn't tending to their little one, she was sobbing. The answer came to him one day as she was crying helplessly on his shoulder. "This is what happened to all of my brothers, all dead before they turned a year old – taken by the same, unusual illness."

The curse he'd spoken over Cora's lineage had taken root in his own family tree. Belle was a female descendant of hers, entailing any male child born to them would meet the same fate as all the others. It was his fault their son was afflicted. Being locked away in the vault for so long had made him omit this minor detail from his mind. He blamed himself for not researching her history before going through with this, but Belle had enriched his life in so many ways. He didn't regret taking her as his bride. No, the blame rested solely on him. So, he quickly set to work, attempting to find a way to reverse the curse.

The Dark One didn't easily give up its ancient secrets, but it eventually consented – granting him the answer he sought. He would have to give up the one thing he loved most – his son. It pained him with great anguish to let him go once more, but he relented. The babe died three days before his first birthday. They buried him in the gardens behind the castle grounds. The Dark One was satisfied with the spinner's offering and lifted the curse as it had promised.

Belle proved to be inconsolable, preferring to spend most of her days locked away in the library. She didn't share his bed anymore, and he desperately missed her radiance. He grieved in his own way, concocting new potions and poring over useless research to fill his time. The snow had began to thaw when she requested to come back to his chambers. They were both tired of sleeping alone, but Rumpelstiltskin didn't push her for more. The comforting weight of her body settled beside him satisfied him enough.

When the flowers began to bloom with rich colorful, petals, Belle reached for him once more. He was hesitant at first, but she had reassured him that she was ready to try again. In this season, their intimacy deepened, as they finally allowed themselves to properly grieve, together, over the shared loss of their child. Eventually, Belle became pregnant again. When she gave birth to their second son, that following winter, they were both fretful over what the outcome would be. They decided they weren't going to allow fear to rule over them – living each day as if it were their last. Finally settling on a name, they dubbed him Gideon. Gideon was proof the curse, Rumpelstiltskin, had pronounced over Belle's family was broken, when he lived past his first birthday, then his second – eventually reaching adulthood.

Belle and Rumpelstiltskin continued to dwell in the Dark Castle, adding more offspring to their family – eventually finding a way to free him from his curse. They lived a rich and fulfilling forever together, drinking deeply of the others' love until the sands of time ran dry.

The End


End file.
